In Dark Places
by Aeroshockwave
Summary: All the Racer family ever wanted was unity. But when a secret from Speed's past is brought to light, can the family ever be whole again?
1. Default Chapter

            Rating:I don't have any clue. E-mail mea and tell me what you think it should be; has some racing scenes that are rather bloody, some nasty sickness scenes, and possibly some character death, I haven't decided yet. (I won't kill off Speed though.)

            Author's note: Aloha! I'm kind of new at this, so flame me! Heck, bring along a flamethrower. My name is Aeroshockwave (not really, but you'll never get my real name, so don't even try). You'll never understand me or figure me out, so don't even try. I'm a total Anime freak, and I have several fics in progress, but I usually wait until I have a few chaps done on it, but this is the exception. My comp is freaking out, so it's rejecting the file. -_-*

My favorite anime and anime characters (In no particular order) are:

Speed Racer : Speed (And on occasion Racer X depends on my mood. Currently, it's Speed.)

Ronin Warriors: Rowen Hashiba, or Rowen of the Strata.

Record of Lodoss War: Parn, or the Free Knight.

Dragonball Z: Piccolo! All the way! (I have a couple of fics about him as well. Oh and Gohan's a sweetie.)

Gundam Wing: Trowa Barton (#1), and Heero too. (I have a rant on why I hated Heero until he fixed his broken leg all by his lonesome. That was cool. Hehe. :o)) 

Digimon: Yamato Ishida (Matt) 

            Anyway, that was a short list of a select few animes. See ya! *Does a happy little dance cause you're reading her fic. *   

Foreword: Speed has just returned from a race in Paris, France, where his hand was burned when a spark ignited a small patch of gasoline near the cockpit. Sparky and Trixie have been on approximately one date, Pops and Mrs. Racer have been keeping a close eye on both sons, and Spritle has been getting into mischief like usual. Enjoy!  

Pops Racer sipped his coffee and looked up at the vast sky of stars, twinkling like diamonds, and shining even brighter. It was a fairly peaceful night, considering the day it followed. He took another sip and tilted his head back and breathed deeply. Anyhow, it really didn't matter. Speed was back from a race in France, a place halfway across the world. Even Pops had been reluctant to let Speed go that far, but in the end Speed had convinced his mother and father that, "Safety 7 will work just as well in France as it does here."

            Mrs. Racer had nearly killed her son when he came home with a burn on his hand from a rather nasty engine flaw. Not a crash, but a small explosion near the steering wheel was enough for protective Mrs. Racer to go ballistic. In fact, if Speed hadn't begged his mother not to, she very likely would have set fire to the Mach 5 and burnt it to the ground. She had sent Speed straight into bed; he had quite obvious jet lag. 

            Pops glanced at the Grandfather clock as it started to toll the hour. **Bong…bong…bong…bong…bong. **He hadn't realized it had gotten so late. He hoped that clock didn't wake Speed, which was impractical because the clock had been going like this all night. **_Click_**. Pops jumped at the unexpected sound, disconcerting the tranquility of the night. He jumped into the kitchen and peeked out into the living room. _Who knows? It might be a burglar or something_, he thought. 

            It was Speed. Pops almost stepped out and scolded his son for being out of bed at this hour, but the thing that happened next stopped him in his tracks. Speed brought a pair of keys from his pocket. He was going driving. _Not at this hour in this rainy weather you're not. _

            "Speed!"

            His son froze. "Y…Yeah Pops?"

            "What are you doing?" 

            His son turned back to look at him.  "Just…going for a little cruise, Pops." 

            Just like that! If Mrs. Racer had seen this, Speed would have been so much shark food. "Son, it's raining and it's five o' clock in the morning! What gave you the impression you could just go for a drive?" 

            Speed hung his head; he knew he'd been beat. "I just haven't driven since… since the race in Paris." He looked up at his father and cocked his head. "Haven't you ever had that feeling where you need, and I mean really need, to feel the engine humming, push the limit? See how far you can go? Have you ever felt that?" 

            Pops looked at his son. _Rex once asked me the same question, the day before the crash_[1]_. _"No son. I haven't."

            "Well I have. And I need to drive. So let me go, Pops." Speed's voice almost sounded threatening. 

            "No! You're not going anywhere in that monstrosity of a car! I'll tie you up myself if that's what it takes." Mrs. Racer, standing with hands on her hips, broke up the father to son talk. "That car is not the most important thing in the world! Now go to bed!" 

            "But Mom! You don't understand!" Speed pleaded hopelessly. 

            "What I don't understand is your and Rex's attachment to that car, after it's almost killed you and it killed Rex!" Mrs. Racer broke down into sobs. Pops started to, unbelievably, sob along with her, and Speed didn't know what to do. He was only here for the car. 

            "S…S…Speed, go…to b…bed." Mrs. Racer said between sobs. Speed looked at his car keys. He could beat them both to the Mach 5, and then no one could stop him. He took one look at his mother, though, and went straight upstairs to sleep. 

            Speed heard his mother come in early in the morning, and pretended to be in a sincere sleep. He heard he come over, felt her warm hand on his forehead, and for some reason, her hand felt cool against his skin. He heard her hurried footsteps out the door. He cracked his eyes open a bit and sat up. **_Go back to sleep, _**it seemed his body was telling him, **_close your eyes and sleep._** He lay back down and closed his eyes. It was amazing how fast he fell back asleep. 

It seemed he had just closed his eyes when Mrs. Racer came in, a bottle in hand. She put her hand on her son's shoulder and shook him soothingly. "Speed. Wake up. It's almost two o' clock!" Speed opened his eyes and tried to focus them. 

"O…Okay, mom." He groaned. 

She smiled. "You have a little fever today. I have some medicine for you." She said shaking the bottle.

"Mom, not helping." Speed's voice sounded gravelly, and throaty. He looked up at his mother. Mrs. Racer gasped. Her son's eyes, usually crystal sapphire, were foggy and bloodshot, streaked with scarlet. She felt her son's forehead again. She pulled it away rather quickly, wondering if she'd actually been burned. 

"Baby, you're burning up! I'm going to call Sparky and tell him not to come over. Trixie too." She made a move for the door, knowing if Speed weren't terribly ill, he would try to stop her. He made no move to.

****************************************************************** 

"Oh. Well tell him to get well soon! Uh-huh. Bye." Sparky hung up his cell phone and turned the Hibiki Motors bus around. Trixie came out of the back of the bus.

"Spritle sick? Poor thing. What'd you turn the bus around for? Speed's house is that way." 

It's not Spritle. It's Speed. Mrs. R says he came down with a fever, and the doctor's coming to look at him, so we can't go visit him today." Sparky shrugged. "I've never known Speed to be sick for long, so he should be fine in a couple of days." 

Trixie smiled with relief. "Good. I was worried."

"Trixie has a boyfriend, Trixie has a boyfriend…" 

"Quiet you!"

****************************************************************** 

Mrs. Racer whispered relaxingly to her son, as he mumbled and turned over in his sleep. This was bad. In twelve years, the worst thing Speed had ever contracted was a slight case of the flu. She had no idea what this could be. Rex had had one virus that was critical, but with proper medication and rest, that was cleared up in the space of a few months. Maybe this was just the same kind of thing. 

A faint click announced that the doctor was here and had entered the Speed's bedroom. 

 "Ah! Where's Spritle?" The doctor, a short older fellow, said, looking around the room. His eyes roved to Speed. "Oh my goodness!" He exclaimed, opening his black and green duffle bag and pulling out a thermometer. "How long has he been like this?" 

            Mrs. Racer wrung her hands worriedly. "Just since this morning. This is so sudden; his fever this morning was nothing compared to what it is now." The doctor grunted and pulled the crazily beeping thermometer out of Speed's mouth. He whistled and shook his head. "106.4. That's quite a fever. I wonder… Speed open your mouth. Can you talk? No? Hmm…" He put his tools away and asked to use the phone. Mrs. Racer gave him permission and he took his leave; Mrs. Racer was once again alone with her son. 

            "Speed?" When he looked up, she knew he wasn't seeing her, or anything for that matter. "You… You're… You're going to be okay, understand? I promise." 

            "Yep. My suspicions are confirmed." The doctor stood in the doorway, arms folded across his chest. "You see, last week, I received twelve calls from the racetrack. A nasty virus had been injected into the racer's lounge, where the racers wait until it's their time to race. Anyhow, the symptoms are the same, and I'm afraid…" He paused for a moment. "He'll need to go to the hospital for a few weeks. Now don't panic," He said, noticing Mrs. Racer's ferocious expression, "He'll be fine if we get him there, and besides, with the other racers he knows, he'll be contented." 

            Mrs. Racer nodded her approval. "Very well. You're sure…"

            "Yes, he'll be fine. Better than here anyway." Mrs. Racer nodded. 

            "Let's go."

            Jenison coughed and lay back against the pillow of his hospital bed. Well, actually, it was more of a cardboard surface than a bed, but he was consoled by the fact that every other racecar driver in the league was going through the exact same thing. In fact, Speed Racer had been admitted yesterday, and was in the room just next to him, groaning in pain, and Jenison felt bad for the kid. Sure, the other drivers were going through the same phenomenon, but Speed was just a teenager, who should probably be dating and kissing, instead of driving professional racecars, especially the Mach 5. 

            The Mach 5 was a powerful machine, and Jenison thought it should belong to an older, more experienced driver. Speed was a good driver for his age, rarely it was he lost a race. Jenison turned his television up as Speed screamed loudly. "Baka of a kid…" He listened instead to the news reports.

            The reporter flounced her hair. "Investigators are scouring the area for the bio-terrorist that put nearly fifty drivers in the hospital, among them, Jenison, Spike, Toushikoro, and Speed Racer. All the drivers are suspected to make a full recovery, though they're exact conditions are not to be disclosed." Jenison grunted as the reporter continued. "The police believe that it was this man that injected the virus into the drivers food, rooms, and possibly even cars." A picture of a man flashed across the screen, and a number for information. The reporter continued with another story, but Jenison wasn't listening. 

            _I've seen that guy hanging around the racetracks. He's almost always there, and he always gambles like crazy on  the drivers. Should I say something? _He fought the strong urge to bang on the wall when Speed screamed in pain, and several doctors ran past his room. _Bakas…_

            Hee hee! Well, I finished with the first chapter! Aren't you proud of me? I'd be a lot more proud of myself if someone actually reviewed. **hopeful grin**

            Anyhow, Much love to Jen and Oriana just for writing their stories and being willing to share them with us, and extra loves to Jen for helping me with the whole uploading thing. **hugs and grins** Yes, I know that the ending kind of sucked, but I had other stuff to do and I had to end it there. And if it sucked, sorry! I am kind of young for writing fanfiction, so I still screw up on grammar, spelling, etc. If you think this did suck, FLAME ME! **grin** I learned a long time ago that if a writer wants to get better, she/he has to be told the truth. I'm bulletproof, so don't be afraid to speak your mind! 

            Wheeeeeeeeee!!!!!!

            Aeroshockwave    

  


* * *

[1] Speed's older Brother, Rex Racer was an incredible racecar driver. When Speed was young, Rex crashed the Mach 5 and was killed. Speed still tries to be what his brother was.


	2. Plans

            Huzzah! I wrote another (short) chapter! I do apologize for the shortness, but I wrote this in ten minutes, so it was kind of improvised. -_-* But anyhow, R & R!!

            Disclaimer: Guess what? Id on't even own my own car, so what makes you think I own a T.V. show? J/k. I own **NOTHING.**

            The streetlamps that lined the road cast an unholy yellow light on the sidewalks and made the small pools of rain from the night before glisten. There was no sound, no sound but the silence, and sometimes silence can be the most awful sound of all, as was the case for a man standing just outside the pools of light. He was waiting for a car to pull up, give him money, and either shoot him or reward him. But so far, there had been nothing and the man was left alone on the sidewalk.

            Finally a sound broke the silence like a hammer to glass. A car engine revved and the man stepped into the light. A blue corvette appeared on the highway, going much faster than needed. The man lit up a cigarette and took a long drag. The car stopped with a screech in front of him. The driver's seat swung open and a tall, broad shouldered man stepped out.

            "Did you inject the virus?" The man removed the cigarette and exhaled, sending wafts of smoke floating in the bitter air.

            "Of course. Did you bring the money? Remember, twelve grand, like we agreed on, Jarrett." Jarrett opened his wallet and pulled out a hundred dollar bill. The man frowned.

            "Twelve hundred, Jarrett." 

            "Idiot! You didn't inject enough to kill them! They all survived! Meaning you failed. And you saw what happened to the last man the failed me, didn't you Shaori?" Shaori's eyes widened. 

            Jarrett pulled a gun from his back pocket, a pistol with a crimson handle. "I'm sorry, Shaori, but I have to keep up my reputation." 

            **BANG**

            When Pops Racer had learned his son was in the hospital (he had been car part shopping) he had dropped everything and ran, causing the crowds and crowds of people in the stores that were looking at the famous car builder to stare in wonder. 

            Pops burst into the hospital lobby and simply left the door swinging. The hotel lobby was a crisp and formal, yet comfortable and snug room with a large chandelier hanging from the peach ceilings and bouquets of roses and daisies covering the small tables. He searched out a chair and waited until an older nurse, probably in her fifties, approached him. 

            "Pops Racer, a pleasure to meet you." She outstretched her hand and Pops pushed it aside, quite unfriendly. 

            "My son, please." She nodded and Pops couldn't help but think of a lawyer, and indeed with her hair done in a tight bun and her wrinkleless uniform that looked like she'd spent hours pouring starch over it, she did look like one. 

            "Follow me. Your son's in room 215. Your wife is waiting for you." Her shoes squeaked cleanly against the floor as she turned and led the head of Hibiki motors up a few hallways, unlocking doors as she did so. Catching glimpses through the small, slender windows, Pops saw many famous racing names. He counted them off. _And Boldoff, and Oh, there's Jenison…_ After Jenison the nurse stopped and indicated a door.

            "This is the one. Please, keep your voice low." She twisted the handle and the two of them entered. Speed was laying asleep on a white, clean bed, covered up to his shoulders with the crisp blankets. His arms lay at his sides and his eyelids moved from time to time, but other than that, there was no movement. Mom Racer sat close to the bed, watching the sleeping teen, her eyes focused totally on his face. Spritle and Sparky leaned against the wall, and Spritle held Chim-Chim in his arms. 

            At the sight of the monkey, the nurse put her hand to her mouth. "What is that…repulsive creature doing in here? Get it out!"

            Spritle clutched his monkey. "No! He's my monkey, you old fart!"

            "I most certainly am not, young man! Now get that…thing out of here!"

            "But Speed'll  be happy Chim-Chim's here! Chim-Chim can cheer up anyone, even you!" 

            The nurse was about to come up with some spitfire retort, but before she could, a young woman came in. "Nurse Hokuso?" 

            "Yes?" She appeared quite annoyed. 

            "Dr. Kamiyama would like to talk to you."

            "Very well-"

            The young lady cut her off. "Oh my gosh, it's Speed Racer! Wow! He's even cuter in person than he is on T.V.!" She turned to Sparky. "And you're his mechanic!" Speed moved his head to the side in an attempt to shut out her high pitched squeals. Mrs. Racer thankfully plugged his ears.

            "Well, yeah I'm his mechanic." Sparky puffed out his chest comically.

            "Wow! That's so interesting!" 

            Sparky flushed. "Yeah."

            "Would you like to come down with me to the faculty room? They're having pizza." She winked stunningly and flipped her auburn hair. "Come on!"

            Sparky looked at Mrs. Racer, she nodded her consent, and the two were off, Sparky bragging all the way. 

            From a distance, eyes watched the red-head and the mechanic waltz down the hall. _Jennifer did her job well. Now for the child, and then the parents._

_            One by one, Speed Racer, they will leave you all alone. And then you'll be left to me…_

            Wow, another chap. all done! Remember Review, and you can now that I got the you-can't-review-if-you're-anonymous thing fixed. =O)


	3. A Whole New Set of Problems

            Wow, the last chapter was really short… sorry. But at least I got nine reviews! nine, count 'em, nine reviews! And for whoever said, I WONDER WHY SPEED WAS SCREAMING?, I don't know. The characters write the stories, I just out them down on paper! 

            I apologize for having such a hard time updating…I had a paper with my basic plotline, and I lost it. But now, I found it (in my locker, go figure) so I can write without a problem!

            Anyhow, thanks again for all my reviews (all nine) and now everybody can review, because I fixed the problem where no anonymous reviews were accepted. (most of you knew that)

            Whoop dee do! 

            Jeanie Adams tapped the steering wheel of her small, green and silver bug angrily. She'd been sitting at the same stoplight for nearly an hour, and had only moved, at most, three inches. 

            She tapped her foot impatiently as the line started to move at the pace of slow tar. "Come on, stupid _bakas._" She changed her radio station and sighed as the line stopped again. 

            "…And in the more national news, a man going simply by the name "Jarrett" has been arrested for stalking and finally killing a man just outside of Odaiba. Officers say Jarrett had threatened to kill and or injure the man's family."

            "Jerks," Jeanie mumbled.

            "Police now have reason to believe that Jarrett may have an accomplice or possibly even a superior in hiding. They believe he may be somewhere around Tokyo. IF you have any information about "Jarrett" please call…"

            Jeanie tuned out as the newsman droned out a number and then a description. She flipped her long, black hair and adjusted her tank top. Seeing the traffic was going nowhere fast, she flipped down her visor and opened the mirror. She frowned and quickly applied new golden eyeshade. Turning her head this way and that, she decided she was satisfied. 

            There was a knock on her window, startling her. A young boy stood shaking pitifully outside her car door. She rolled her window down as it started to rain.

            "Um…I was…well, that is…Ijustlivearoundthecornerandifyouwouldtakemeitwouldbeagreathelp!" He gushed. She blinked.

            "Well…if you just live around the corner… oh I suppose. Get in." He smiled. His hair was a dirt brown and his eyes were blue, very blue. His dimples were high on his face, almost on his cheekbones.

            They sat in silence for a few moments. The boy fidgeted like little boys do until she spoke. "So what's your name, kid?"

            "Kevin." He kicked his legs against the seat. Normally, Jeanie would have been all over him, but she decided to let it slide. 

            "That's a nice name," She said. "And that's a very nice jacket." At this he looked distinctly uncomfortable. 

            "Mr. Gave it to me."

            "Mr.?"

            "I call him that. Ph, that reminds me. He has a gift for you." He handed her a package. "Take it." He thrust the car door open and jumped out, but not before shoving a small green package into her hands.

            She looked at him, and back at the package. Slowly she lifted the lid.

            **_**tick tick tick** _**

            "What the…" She saw the counting digital numbers and heard the ticking. She had no time to move, before:

            **_Blam!_**

            The wall of fire set the cars behind her flying backwards as smoke billowed from the bombing site. 

            And Jeanie was nowhere to be found.

            George Ortega clutched his camera and hurried down the stairs of his apartment complex. Shoving people out of his way, he finally reached the black room.

            Throwing his other equipment in the corner, he popped open his camera and put the film under the lights, watching as they developed.

            He counted and named silently in his head. _…13: Speed in the World Battle Grand Prix, 14: Speed and Spritle in Speed's bedroom, 15: Speed playing tennis…_

            As each one started to develop, he hung each one on the drying line that dipped low from the ceiling. All 25 were accounted for. He whipped out his pocket knife. In each picture, he carefully and delicately carved Speed's eyes out. 

            He scribbled out an address on an envelope and thrust the pictures inside. 

            Mr. Would pay him well for this.

            There! I know not a lot on Speed, but The bnext chapter's all about him, I promise. And besides, if I skipped this chapter, you'd be lost in the next few!

            R&R!!!

--Aeroshockwave 


	4. The Envelope

            I know there was almost no Speed our last go round, so I made sure there's lots of him here. And with the whole Jeanie thing, it will make sense at the end of this story, so just be patient. I try not to throw in characters for no good reason, and besides, who ever said Jeanie was ::totally:: dead? **smirks** 

            Disclaimer: Well, no. If I did, I would have the Mach 5 in my garage…even though I couldn't drive it. Not legally anyway. ^ ^ ;;

            Alright, even I think this is really bad, but I couldn't think of any other way to write what I wanted you to read, so here it is!

            Speed sat with his hands folded in his lap. His painkillers had abated his headache for now, and other medications had stopped his delirium/vomiting/mono-like symptoms, so he was feeling a little better. However, he was now slightly lonely. Spritle had disappeared at the mention of dinner (via his mother) and without him, the room seemed rather hostile. Pops was still there, of course, but he tended to try to be mother when Speed was sick.

            Pops fiddled with his thumbs in a gray, metal chair. He didn't like being left alone with Speed when he was sick; it made him feel obligated to be watching, comforting, etc. and he wasn't really good at that sort of thing. He hadn't had any siblings growing up, and had simply spent most of his time watching cars. In fact, he wished he could simply be fixing a car right now, instead of sitting here fidgeting in a hospital room.

            A bluebird perched on the window ledge cocked its head to the side and warbled tune out. Speed looked at his father, who was now folding and unfolding his arms.

            "Pops?"

            "Yeah Speed?" Pops sat up. This might be important. What if Speed was saying something that could save his life? What if—

            "Open the window. I want to hear outside." Pops sighed. There he went overreacting as usual. He truly had expected for his son to jump up and say, 'Dad, I'm going to die!'.

            He hefted himself off the chair and unlatched the window. He hesitated before lifting the frames. "You sure? It's a busy day, and I'm sure that there's going to be a lot of noise…"

            "Dad, I'm sure. Just open the window." Pops reluctantly opened the window, and cringed at the car horns, smog, and yelling people that he could hear.

            Speed didn't seem to notice though. The bluebird had returned after Pops had opened the window, and had started to sing again. Speed whistled and the bird stopped and cocked its feathered head. It ventured to whistle again, and Speed followed suite. Now thoroughly annoyed, the bird puffed its chest out and whistled furiously, sounding for all the world like it was trying to imitate a tornado. Speed tried to mimic the sound, but failed miserably, sounding like a mating call gone wrong. Now satisfied, Bluebird smugly began to preen his feathers.

            Pops sweat dropped.

            Speed continued to watch Bluebird until he fell into a light slumber.

            Mom Racer pulled up into the driveway of the Hibiki Motors mansion. She had decided to check the place out, get the mail, the newspaper, etc. before heading back to the hospital. She pulled the key out of the ignition and slid (in a lady-like manner of course) out of the car. 

            After checking the house, and picking up the newspaper, she headed for the mailbox. She flipped the door open and found only a white, un-addressed envelope. She frowned and pried it open with her red fingernails. She dug int eh envelope for a moment, before her hands came to rest on a photo. She carefully pulled it out, so not to scratch it.

            She screamed. There in the photo, was her son, standing in front of the Mach 5, eyes gouged out, with the message, "I see you," written in black marker.

            Well, by George! There, was that enough Speed for y'all? 

            Oh, and if any of you are fans of digimon, go check out my story, "Dark Tiakall". Thanks a bunch, and R&R!

--Aeroshockwave


	5. Gone

            Why hello! Sorry this took so long. 7th grade algebra sucks. **ducks book thrown by ronchy math teacher** Hey! **throws pudding** Take that! Um, while my teacher and I are working this out **ducks projectile** go ahead and read this very short, yet effective chapter! 

30 years Mrs. Racer had worked to keep her family together and safe. And now, it was all falling apart. She dropped the envelope in horror, and more pictures spilled like water from a broken glass over her driveway. 

            "Oh my…" She whipped out her cell phone. _Inspector Detector, brace yourself…_(A/N: See Jen?)

            Speed woke up with Trixie's smiling face above him. "Hi." She said quietly and tenderly.

            "Hi." He sat up, happy to see her. "Anything important happened while I've been out of commission?" She grinned.

            "Oh, Spritle and Sparky got in an argument over the last cookie a few minutes ago, and Sparky now has a black eye, via Chim-Chim. And the doctors said they can release you in another day or two." Speed smiled, relieved.

            'Good. I don't know how much longer I can last without Mom's cooking." Trixie laughed and Speed looked at her. She looked pretty when she laughed. He pushed his black hair (A/N: Thanks to Jen, I know that he has black hair! I can describe people now! Yay!) out of his face.

            The door burst open. A doctor entered. "Fire!" He screamed throwing his hands up in the air. "Miss, get out! The staff will get him," He indicated Speed who was now thoroughly in shock, "out of here!" Trixie looked to Speed. He nodded.

            "I'll be fine. Go ahead. I'll meet you downstairs." Trixie nodded and left. 

            But as soon as she stepped into the hallway, she sensed something was wrong. "But, nobody else seems aware there's a fire…" She turned frantically back to the room, but the door was already locked, and most likely the deadbolt was in place too. 

            She ran to the nearest nurse. "There's a doctor in Speed's room!" The nurse looked at her uncomprehending. Trixie sighed exasperated and snatched the keys off the woman's belt.

            Ignoring her cries to stop and give the keys back Trixie raced to the door, immediately inserted a key. It was wrong. Trixie swore under her breathe as key after key proved to be wrong. Finally, the key third to last fit. She turned the key, only to find the deadbolt only allowed a two inches of visibility. But she saw what she needed to see. The blood stains on the wall and the empty room.

            Heavens to Betsy, that was so short! Barely a page! Oh well. Anyway I resolved my differences with my math teacher.  **Readers hear a squeak and a muffled help from the closet**  ^-^ Yep, all resolved! Gracias to Jen, because I will admit I have never, never, never seen the actual Speed Racer series.**Readers gasp** Yes. Shameful that I'm writing fanfiction about it, when what I know came from my, get this, my BFF Ashley. Sooooooooo if you have anything you want to tell me about the series **hopeful look** e-mail me!  

--Aeroshockwave  


	6. Changeling

Ack! Another long wait! I apologize again…you'll probably be hearing a lot of that from me. I am awfully occupied with my friend, because she is a freaking jerk. So I guess she's not really my friend. ^-^ I'm a whiner! Okay, this chapter is dedicated to Dusty. Thanks for all the nifty encouragement! 

Disclaimer: Why, I think I may just not own this! 

            Speed opened his eyes slowly. His head was throbbing like a second heartbeat, not to mention he had double vision, for some strange reason. (A/N: Ever gotten knocked really hard on the head? It hurts.) He lifted his hand to the back of his head, feeling a large bump, and a place where his skin didn't meet, leaving a gash that reached from his right temple to the left side of his nape. He lay his head back onto the cold stone floor where he had been lain. He sat up, slowly recognizing the place he was in. 

A morgue. He was in a bloody morgue.

Several bodies were stretched out over a group of tables. The one closest to him was a young woman with long black hair. At least Speed thought it was a girl. Her skin had been burned horribly, her nose almost disintegrated. Nobody had even tried to freeze, or preserve her body. She had spots on her where the burning gave way to rot. And next to her lay the body of a man. Along with the sight of her body, which was almost enough to make Speed sick anyhow, there was the stench. She had to have been dead for quite some time.

Next to her was the figure of a man. He had been dead even longer than the girl. He had a bullet wound through his forehead. "These people aren't even covered…" Speed whispered to himself. "Gross." 

He stood and out of respect, he didn't allow his shoes to clack as he walked down the long rows of bodies, all uncovered. Some were so fresh, their blood was still warm and wet on their clothing. And, most sickeningly of all, he recognized some of them. 

Speed turned away, disgusted, only to come face to face with a living, breathing person. With a smirk of sadistic pleasure, the man raised his hand, revealing an iron crowbar, gleaming in the low lighting. 

Speed felt his cheekbone crack as the man slammed the crowbar into the side of his face. He dropped to one knee and let out a howl of pain. He felt his own blood fall to the floor, staining it.

  "Hello Speed." The man smiled.

"Who… who are you? Why are all these people here?" Speed's voice was unnaturally high and far off.

"Oh, You can call me Mr. Jarrett." Another man and a little boy stepped out of the shadows. "This is George Ortega, and Kevin March. They're mostly responsible for all this." He smiled. "Shall I introduce you to the gang?" He indicated the bodies. He stepped lightly off toward the beginning of the hall. "This is Jeanie."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why kill all these people? What did they ever do to you?" Speed followed, face reddening in anger.

Jarrett laughed. "My dearest Speed, don't you ever wonder?"

"Ever wonder what?" 

"Why on the mantle piece at home, there's not one single picture of you under the age of four?" Jarrett smiled.

"What are you saying."

"Oh, my Speed. I certainly thought you'd be much smarter. You're adopted, Speed."

Speed paled. "WHAT?!"

"You're someone else's son. As a matter of fact, you're mine."

Quite a plot twist! I'll explain a lot in the next chapters so don't miss it! R&R!


	7. Reveal

            SCHOOL'S OUT! THAT MEANS MORE UPDATES, YOU HAPPY PEOPLE YOU!

            A/N: Well, that was quite the turn of events, wasn't it? I hope you all were surprised; I've learned I'm not very good at surprising people. Anyway, enjoy this new chapter! I must be on a roll! I only updated yesterday!

            Disclaimer: Nope. But I do own Jarrett, George, and Kevin. If you want to use them, e-mail me!

            Speed stared for a few minutes before his brain started to function again. "What?" Jarrett repeated himself with a patient tone of voice Speed had heard used for a three year old who asked the same question over and over again. 

            "I said, you're my son." Jarrett indicated himself. "Can't you see the resemblance?" _No! _Speed wanted to scream, but truth be told he could see it. The same thick, black hair, the same deep blue eyes, and strangely enough, the same smile. "Oh, you're surprised?" Jarrett almost sounded amused.

            Speed's mouth was too dry to say anything, so he just looked back. _This can't be my father, This can't be my father, This just can't be my father! _

            "Feeling betrayed? Not surprising. Your adoptive parents lied to you. Lied through their teeth." Jarrett slammed his fist into a table. "But it serves you right! All these years, you never even wondered, while I had to watch you grow up on the race track from the inside of a jail cell!" 

            "I…I don't believe you." That was all he could muster up from the swirl of emotions in his heart. "You're not my father."

            "Oh, Speed…actually, you're with me now. I don't have to call you by your adoptive name. I can call you by your real one." Speed rose to his feet, fear and shock fueling his body with energy, and anger.

            "Speed is my name! Pops is my father! You're nothing but a liar and a murderer! I know what you're saying isn't true!" Tears of frustration and confusion welled up in his eyes, but he would not cry. Not in front of Jarrett. "It's not. It can't be."

            "There, there little Aurin." Jarrett smiled, pleased with the way his son's wall of denial had begun to crack. "You're with me now." He bent to wipe away his son's tears, but was interrupted by a noise outside.

            "Come out with your hands up! This is Private Inspector Detector, and you're surrounded on all sides!" Jarrett grinned. 

"I'll be back, Aurin."

                                                                        *******

Mrs. Racer clung to her husbands arm. "Do you think Jarrett's told him?" Pops kissed her hair lightly. 

            "I'm sure he has." Inspector Detector tapped Pops' shoulder.

            "The little freak's come to the window. We're going to try to talk him down, but I doubt it will work. We may get an explanation for this, however." He held up one of the pictures of Speed without his eyes. 

            The three of them returned to the north side of the building, where Jarrett had poked his head out a window and was regarding the herds of police cars like they were no threat. 

            "Jarrett? We know you have the bodies of nearly 50 people in that morgue. Why did you single them out?" Inspector Detector folded his arms across his chest. "Explain this whole thing, right now."

            "With pleasure, officer! Now let's see, where to begin, where to begin…How about Aurin's birth?" Jarrett put one finger to his head and tapped it against his temple. "I know you're curious."

            "Cut the chatter."

            "Very well. Aurin's mother didn't want Aurin, but I did. I returned home one day to find her trying to drown him. I killed her." Jarrett made a slice across his throat with one finger. "Anyhow, after the police found out, Aurin and I couldn't stay in Tokyo any longer. We moved to Hiroshima, where the police found me when he was two." Jarrett's face darkened. "And that's when they took him from me. For two years, the kept me from him, allowing me to see him only when you went to court to adopt him." He glared hatefully at the Racers. "So, I waited, and waited, and waited until one day in jail, I saw him, racing a car. Of course, I busted out as soon as possible, and began to kill off the things and people who had been in court that day."

            "Such as?"

            "Oh, judge, jury, files, documentaries, et cetera. In fact, if you look in the government archives, you won't find the adoption papers, thus making your adoption of Aurin illegal. And, as I am his only living relative, I now have full custody, legally!" Jarrett laughed.

            "Explain this!" Inspector Detector brandished the picture of Speed.

            "Oh that. Yes, well that was mostly to scare you. See, I poked the eyes out as a symbol of his not being able to see me." Jarrett grinned. "Clever, no? Now if you'll excuse me, I have a bit of catching up to do with my son." He slammed the window shut and disappeared back inside.

                                                                        *******

            "Rock-a-bye baby, in the treetops, when the wind blows, the cradle will rock. When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall, and down will come baby, cradle and all!"

            "Stop singing!" Speed cried. He had placed himself a good twenty feet from Jarrett, who had been trying to rock him in his arms for nearly ten minutes, since he had returned from his talk with the police. 

            "Would you like to move to Hong Kong, Aurin?"

            "No!"

            "Baa, baa, black sheep…"

            "Stop it! NOW!"

            "Have you any wool?"

            "Please. Just stop it." Speed felt the lump in his throat rise again. Jarrett smiled pityingly and closed the gap between them.

            "Aurin, don't cry. Daddy's here." Speed wished Pops were here. Pops would have decked the lights out of Jarrett, who had put his arms around Speed. "I'll protect you." Jarrett pulled a long needle from the back of his dress pants. "Now go to sleep." He plunged the needle into the back of Speed's neck, smiling as he felt him fall against his chest, breathing slow and regular, and eyes closed. 

            Jarrett rose from the floor and opened the window. He had one more thing for the police.

            Well, now! Wasn't that fun! I'm debating whether or not to do a spin off story of life before Speed was adopted by the Racers, so tell me if you want one or not. Also, tell me if you like the new plot twist or not. And remember, don't swim in shark infested waters!

            Thanks oodles and oodles for reading!

            --Aeroshockwave


	8. Ideas

            Aloha! If you have any suggestions for the next chapter, or the spin off, or even any suggestions for other stories, e-mail or review and say so. And if you hate me, well then you must love this story, cause you came this far. Review anyway!

Disclaimer: **shakes head in exasperation** If you have any questions, see chapters 1-7. 

Inspector Detector rose to his feet as Jarrett opened the window again and stuck his head out. It had been three hours since their previous talk, and Speed's friend Trixie had showed up, explaining hurriedly that she was positive that Speed was in the building as well. This had only served to make Mrs. Racer bury her face into her husbands shoulder and sob. 

"Jarrett! We know you have Speed!"

"Aurin."

"Nani? What are you talking about?" Inspector Detector lowered his megaphone. "What is that man talking about?"

"His name. It's Aurin. Not Speed." 

Trixie pushed her way through the crowds of police officers, who were trying in vain to hold her back. "Hey you! Who do you think you are? Now give him back! He's not your son!" She turned to face the Racers. "Right?"

Pops looked at her guiltily. "I'm sorry Trixie. But he's right. We adopted him when he was four. We had had Rex, and they said we couldn't have any more. So we adopted him."

Trixie was stunned. She felt like she'd been hit in the heart with a cement mixer. Speed. The one she'd loved for years, the son of a killer. Aurin. It was almost like a demented novel by Stephen King.

Mrs. Racer saw the hurt and disbelief on her face. "Trixie, don't think Speed lied to you. We didn't tell him."

"Why not? Then you just lied to him."

"Can you imagine him trying to have a normal childhood with the knowledge that his father was in jail for two counts of murder?" Trixie shook her head and a light bulb clicked on in it.

She stood in front of Inspector Detector. "Don't all big buildings like this one have a big window on top?" 

He looked confused. "I suppose it would."

She snapped her fingers. "Great! How many police officers and rope do you have?" 

"What?"

"If I can get police officers willing to climb through that window and capture Jarrett and rescue Speed, I can pull this off!"

"How do you plan to get them up there? It's a big building."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a set of jingling keys. "You forget. I have a helicopter." 

Inspector Detector grinned slyly. "Good! Take as many officers as you need, and I'll keep Jarrett talking." 

"What's all the chatter going on out there?" Jarrett tapped his fingers against the window pane. "I have something for you!"

Inspector Detector reached for his megaphone. "Don't get smart."

"Oh, no, officer! Just a …gift." Jarrett grinned and turned his head to the left slightly. It was almost eerie how much he looked like Speed.  

Pops hollered a reply. "Give me back my son!" 

Jarrett's eyes flashed. "Your son? YOUR SON? What gave you that idea? He's my son! Mine, mine, mine, mine!" He pulled a small canister from his jacket. "This is for you." He pulled the lid off and hurled it at the barricade of police officers. They dove for cover as it hit the ground.

Nothing. 

Inspector Detector glared up at Jarrett. "What are you trying to pull?"

Jarrett giggled and waited as a bolder officer approached the canister. He looked back. "It doesn't seem to be anything…" His voice trailed off. He gasped for breath, and as another officer raced to help him, he too was brought to his knees.

Jarrett laughed. "Remember the virus? I released a small, small amount into the racers lounge, just for fun. But this, is a very large amount. There's no way you can get within ten feet of the building, or you'll end up like these two." 

Okay, that was a sucky ending, but hey! Now, I know you wanna review! So don't hold yourself back! 

Thanks lots for reading, and remember, nitroglycerine is not good for your digestive system!

--Aeroshockwave  


	9. Singsong Lullaby

            Ha! I am back! After quite some wait too, eh? Oh well. Kudos to everybody who reviewed the last chapter, and the beginning of Glass! I know that one's been going slow, but I'll get there!! 

            Disclaimer: INFERNAL LAWYERS! FEEL THE WRATH OF MY FAVORITE ANIME CHARACTERS AND FELLOW AUTHORESSES!!!!!!

            Jen: **rolls eyes** Oh sheesh. Not you again! (j/k Jen!)

            Joey's girl: **glomps Joey Wheeler plushie** YAY! 

            Oriana: How come I have to do it?! 

Speed: **sips soda** Oh, you mean me?

            Legato: It doesn't matter much to me. ALL YOU MORTALS WILL DIE SOON ANYWAY!

            Rowen: She doesn't own a thing. (to readers) But don't tell her that. She's touchy.

            ASW: Why do I even bother…

            Trixie expertly guided her helicopter down near the morgue. She and the police force had agreed that it would be best if she "parked" out of sight from Jarrett, at least until they had the position of everyone inside. This was going to be a tough mission, and probably the most important one she would ever perform. Not that the citizens were helping any. Nearly a hundred people had shown up and were watching the comings and goings of the police with wide eyes and even wider camera lenses. 

            Her headset crackled and a voice made itself clear. "Heroine17, come in Heroine 17!"

            "I hear you Daddy4." She almost laughed with the ridiculousness of the all to necessary names. It was funny. It would have been a lot funnier if Speed would have been on the other end of the line. 

            "Okay, what we need you to do first, when you get up there, is locate Speed. Once we have him safely out of range, we can blow Jarrett from here to hell." Inspector Detector's voice was venomous.  

            "Okay." 

            "Now where are you precisely?" 

            "About an eighth of a  mile from the morgue." She could see the big black building looming ominously in the setting sunlight. 

            "Trixie, hold on a minute. Jarrett's stuck his head out the window again." She felt her throat constrict with hate. She wanted to stab the eyes out of that lying little freak. 

            "I'll be here." The link fizzed with static. Ten minutes passed, then fifteen, then twenty. Finally she rang in. "Inspector Detector?" She immediately corrected herself. "Daddy4? Daddy4? Are you there?" No answer. Panic fluttered in her stomach. What if…well, there were just too many what ifs to bother thinking up just one. 

            Finally- "Trix-I mean Heroine17. I'm here." Inspector Detector's voice sounded secretive, as though he were hiding something from her. 

            "What's wrong?" Chills ran up her spine and through her arms.

            A sigh and a whisper on the other end of the line. "Heroine17…Speed's drugged." 

            She smiled with relief. "Is that all? No big deal!"

            "No! No, that's not all! And it's certainly not 'no big deal'! Not only is Speed drugged and dead weight, but Jarrett's got himself a bomb. And if we don't give into his demands, he'll blow them all into kingdom come! 

            Her eyes widened. "But…Speed!"

            "Exactly! This is going to be a lot harder than it originally was. This morgue is on a city block! People are going to die if we make the slightest mistake." Silence. "Understand?" 

            "Y-yes." She felt like crying, or throwing up, or something. "When do you want me there?"

            "Right now. I'll keep Jarrett talking. Good luck." 

            Trixie cut off her link. _Okay, Trixie. Nice and slow. Like the time you fished Speed out of the Mach 5 when he crashed into the oce- no. Don't think about him right now. Just think about what you have to do._ She choked down her tears of nostalgia and lifted her copter above the treetops. _Showtime._

                                                                        ******

            Jarrett lifted his son's hand and measured it against his. It was slightly smaller, except for the thumb, which was longer. He could hear the police talking to some person named Heroine17 through the walkie-talkie he had bough last weekend. He had caught a glimpse of the link number on Inspector Detector's and quickly tuned his in the same channel. It had been a rather entertaining conversation, with lots of emotion. Maybe this Heroine17 person would like to be his new girlfriend. 

            He smiled. She sounded young, and caring. Nothing at all like his wife. 

            George Ortega came over. "Gee, who would ever have thought it? The great Speed Racer, really the son of a felon?" Unfortunetly for George, he spoke out loud.

            "Felon?!" Jarrett hissed. "Who is a felon?! I am only a concerned parent, trying to keep his son safe from those crazy lunatics out there! Did you know, they let him drive at age 13?! That kind of a car, going 200 miles an hour at it's slowest? Taking my son away from me, lying to him, telling him stories about how cute he was when he was a baby? Now you tell me, who's the felon?!" He shoved George to the floor, watched him as he crawled across the floor to the opposite side of the room. 

            Speed stirred and made a small mewing sound. Jarrett looked back at him, bent, and stroked his cheek gently. "Hush little baby…." He struggled to remember the words.  "Don't say a word. Daddy's gonna buy you a racing car. And if that racing car won't run, daddy's gonna buy you a brand new gun. And if that gun doesn't do the trick, daddy's gonna use a big red brick…" He trailed off and fell silent for a while. He lay down next to his son. "Soon, Aurin. It'll be just you and me, Aurin-chan. Especially if the big red brick works on the Racers." He laughed and kissed his son's cheek. He picked  up his song where he had left off, his voice carrying on the air, lingering there until the sun went down and the last ray of sunlight disappeared. 

                                                                                    ******

            Yes, I know! Toatally pointless. But I wanted to get to nightfall in my story, and I needed to keep you all occupied until then! ***thumbs through notes** Oh yes, and I know that legal documents have more than one copy, and that my characterization is really off, and I know I have a lot of problems I need to get through, but I was stewing across how to fix it and decided to just continue on. You've all liked it so far, so why not go on! Thanks to the people who offered constructive criticism!!!!! Please review!!!!!!1

            --Aeroshockwave


	10. Bullets Fired

_Well, here we are again. After a nearly three year absence, I decided I owe it to all the reviewers who read this story to finish it. This chapter and one more. Then we're done!_

_I haven't ever stopped writing, but I did stop with Speed for a while in pursuit of more academic endeavours. I am working on a novel that should hopefully be finished within a year, and that takes up a lot of my free time! Due to this, I feel my writing has improved somewhat since the beginning of this story. I may redo the entire thing to make it better, who knows? At any rate, please enjoy the final chapters. Please Review!_

**Chapter 10: Bullets Fired**

* * *

Trixie sat in the cockpit of her helicopter, knowing perfectly well that she should have already entered the building, knowing that every moment she wasted here was another moment Speed was in danger, knowing every second she sat still was another moment that madman was loose, and yet, she had to use all her willpower to bring her white-knuckled hands to rest in her lap, and let go of the two-way radio, her only lifeline. Daring a glance out the side window of her helicopter, she noted immediately the door that the Inspector had told her about. She ticked off her instructions in her head. _Go down the stairs, to the right there's a hallway, second door on the left, second door on the left, second door… _With a sudden burst of determination, she shoved the door open and slid out of the seat, securing her radio to her belt and then creeping slowly to the door. 

It was narrower than she had expected, rising from the roof like a long, colorless finger, with a long, silver handle that gleamed at her like a barrel of a gun. Poetic, she thought bitterly as she reached for it. It was cold and locked. She cursed, an unusual behavior she must have picked up somewhere. She snatched a pin from her hair and rammed it into the key lock. If Speed could teach her how to hotwire a car, she could certainly figure out how to get through this one obstacle. It did not bode well for her if she could not make it through the preliminary round of this cat-and-mouse chase that Jarrett had set for her, however unknowingly. With a protesting squeak, the lock clicked, and Trixie found herself looking down a long and extremely dark stairway. She paused a moment, but one heartbeat later, an image of Speed smiling at her made her set her shoulders and plunge downward.

It was cold, so cold that it almost matched the feeling in her heart. Almost. She considered taking her shoes off; against the steep cement stairs they thudded and the sound echoed all around her until it died away in the abyss before her, but decided against it. If push came to shove with Jarrett, she'd rather not be incapable of flight. She had to feel the step in front of her, since these stairs obviously hadn't been used in quite some time. Dead people obviously had no need to see the sunlight on the roof, and she couldn't imagine any of the morgue caretakers having any uses for it.

She took one more step, prepared to take one more step, and stumbled a bit when her other foot stayed on the same plane, signaling a definite end to the stairs. Turning her head to the right, she noted light coming from what appeared to be a closed door…the second door on the left…

* * *

Speed couldn't open his eyes. Comprehension was nill, and there was a strange taste in his mouth. He ran his tongue over his lips and groaned with the effort as he tried to open his eyes again, to no avail. A hand on his forehead swept away the loose strands of hair that brushed his eyelashes annoyingly. He lay quiet for a while, content to stay in this half-dreaming state. A voice murmured to him, but he ignored it for the most part, and quietly slipped back into his slumber. 

The next time he came into wakefulness, his eyes snapped open immediately, and there was a sense of panic so thick it almost made him choke. He couldn't move, however, only enough to turn his head weakly to stare at the person whose presence had become suddenly apparent. His memory returned immediately.

"Good morning!" Jarrett smiled cheerfully. His hand caressed a gun, tracing the trigger in a lethal manner that belied his current expression.

"Get away from me." Speed demanded, infuriated that his voice carried less power than he had hoped. It sounded weak to his ears.

"Oh, don't be like that, baby." Jarrett smiled and rose to his feet, stuffing the gun in his back pocket casually, before turning to look down on his biological son with a tenderly maniacal grin. He watched Speed struggle for a while, rise to his elbows then fall, then rise and fall again before he added, "It will be easier if you just lay still. Better yet if you just go back to sleep."

"Forget it, freak." Speed growled, pleased that his strength seemed to be returning, albeit bit by bit. "You can just forget it."

"Now, now, that's no way to talk to someone who has risked so much to bring you home, now is it?" Jarrett, not daunted in the least by his son's protestations, knelt back down, tracing one finger beneath Speed's jaw, before slipping one arm about his shoulders, lifting him half to his feet. Speed's first inclination was to push the man away, but knew that if he did so, he would be in the same position as before, flat on his back on the floor, helpless to move. No, he would bide his time. Jarrett gently set him down in a small, cold chair, and stepped back to watch him with a bemused expression. Speed sunk downward, exhausted.

"Why don't you just shoot me and be done with it?" He said, glaring up at the man who could have passed for his older brother. Speed met his biological father's eyes for a moment, but something in them forced him to look away. He roved his eyes over the rest of the morgue, and the two new bodies that were strewn about the floor. He felt his heart freeze as he looked closely at the wide-eyed look of surprise that was frozen on the small boy's face.

"Regrettable, I know." Jarrett chirped, pausing as though he remembered something suddenly, then crossed to the older man that lay in a pool of crimson, reaching under the corpse and retrieving a second gun. He wiped it off on the corner of the man's jacket before stuffing that gun into his back pocket with the first. "But, that's a small price for any father to pay." He planted his arms across his chest casually, like an artist examining his masterpiece.

"You're not my father."

The corner of Jarrett's mouth twitched. "You're still tired, baby." Jarrett said firmly, after an undecided pause. Speed glared back at him. "And besides, if I'm not your father, then it would seem you don't have one, doesn't it?"

"I do have a father." Speed broke in, glad for the sudden rush of adrenaline that pushed aside whatever drug had been (or seemed to have been) invading every fiber of his being.

"I suppose you're referring to that idiot outside." Jarrett plopped himself down on the floor, resting on his palms, that infuriatingly innocent smile still plastered to his face. "I already told you. He's no more your father than that thing is." Jarrett indicated the corpse on the floor with a jerk of his head.

"And the man who I didn't even know existed, you think you're my father?" Speed scoffed, surprised at his own courage in the face of what was obviously a life or death situation.

"Biology can prove it. Science speaks in absolutes, and last time I checked, it said you were my son. And so you are. I would love to carry on this conversation with you, but I fear we must cut it short. It would seem we have a guest." As he spoke, he crossed to the silent doorframe. He put a finger to his lips and indicated the doorknob that twisted slowly, side to side, fighting against the lock. With a diabolical grin, that could have been playful had it come from more innocent lips, Jarrett released the clasp on the door and stepped back quickly. It was a moment before the knob twisted again, this time pushing open and revealing a very, very familiar form.

"No!" Speed cried, wrenching his eyes away from Trixie to watch Jarrett clench her wrist in his own, wrap one arm securely around her and force her against the wall. She cried out as her back slammed against the unforgiving brick.

"What do you think you're _doing_?" Jarrett barked in her ear. He wasn't keeping up his masquerade of a jovial father any longer. Trixie shuddered. He was so close she could feel his every exhaling breath warm against her neck. "I should kill you now and be done with it!"

"Get your hands _off _her!" Jarrett had just enough time to glance over his shoulder before he went down in a torrent of pain and blood. Sprawled across the floor, his nose pouring crimson and his mouth throbbing, Jarrett realized for the first time, that Aurin might really mean what he said about not being his son.

Trixie half-fell into Speed's outstretched arms, and he crushed her against him, burying his face in her hair. "That was quite the punch." She whispered after a moment, only to break the silence.

"Yeah." He sagged against her a little, his sudden burst of activity draining, but before she could ask any further, there was a noise behind them.

It was a dull, metallic click that snapped them back to reality. Jarrett stood with a pistol in each hand, his eyes now mad beyond recognition, lit from within with insanity. "You hit me." Anger flared in his gut, and the urge to pull the trigger was almost uncontrollable.

"Let her go." Speed ignored Trixie's protest. "Keep me, but let her go."

"I won't do that." The affectionate 'baby' suffix was gone now.

"You and me. We'll get a car from the police. You have me as a hostage, they'll give you what you want. You and me, we'll go. Out of town. Out of Japan, if you want to, I don't care. I'll be your son. I'll be whatever it is you want me to be. But let her go first."

Jarret tsked, raising both pistols up a little higher. "I know that's not what you really want. You don't want anything to do with me. If you don't want me to have you, I suppose I won't force the issue." He smiled, but it was emotionless, not angry, or sad, or joyful. "But if that's the case, I'll make sure that nobody else _ever _has you."

Two triggers were pulled.


End file.
